


Happy Birthday Mr. Dixon

by demented_queen



Series: Older Daryl/Younger Grad Student Rick [3]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV), The Walking Dead - All Media Types
Genre: Collars, Food Porn, M/M, Rough Body Play, Rough Sex, Spanking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-16
Updated: 2015-09-16
Packaged: 2018-04-21 01:38:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4809974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/demented_queen/pseuds/demented_queen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daryl is turning 40.  So what could a poor grad student like Rick get for his older lover?</p><p>Well, it's not a toaster.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Happy Birthday Mr. Dixon

**Author's Note:**

> So, a while back, I wrote a drabble thingie for my 50 shades of grey matter series. It was the first one. I decided to expand on that idea (and make it so it wasn't Daryl's imagination this time). So this is what would happen if Daryl was actually getting Rick for his birthday. So yes, I'm sort of stealing from myself, but it's okay, I gave me my permission. :)

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Daryl’s POV  
  
  
  
“Forty, huh!” Daryl huffed as he looked at himself in the mirror above the wash basin in the garage’s only bathroom.  
  
Could be worse.  
  
At least he had a hot, young thing to come home to every night.  
  
It had been a week, a rather _long_ week full of debating and acclimating and compromises and fucking, and how Daryl loved all the fucking, and Rick was still there.  
  
After closing up the garage for the night, Daryl walked over to the freight elevator that would take him back upstairs.  It would be at least another half an hour before the kid got home.  He had time to shower and change.  
  
Then get dirty all over again if he had any say in the matter.  
  
He had been putting up with early mornings before the sun even came up, watching Rick as he blasted out the door, barely eating breakfast, just so he could catch his bus that would take him to the university.   
  
And he watched as Rick came home, tired and worn out, after Daryl had called it quits for the night at his garage.  
  
Daryl had insisted that he give Rick a ride to school on his bike in the morning and also pick him up later, but the kid was so stubborn, it always ended in a squabble about how he didn’t want to _inconvenience_ him any further.  
  
He had been a nice guy about the whole thing, letting Rick get up at an ungodly hour so he could catch an overcrowded bus full of people Daryl knew he wouldn’t like, to get him to school in time for his first class, then spend a day in a combination of classes and work in that damn lab that took everything out of him just so he could get back on _another_ crowded bus full of people Daryl knew he _still_ wouldn’t like, but he was getting rather perturbed about the whole thing now.  
  
He could help Rick.  
  
He just needed to insist harder.  
  
Rick just needed to give in and let Daryl take care of him.  
  
Maybe that was what the kid could gift to him for his birthday.  
  
That and that sweet ass.  
  
Daryl had plans for that ass tonight.  
  
Pulling back the huge, sliding door, he walked into the loft and shrugged out of his clothes, making a bee line for the shower.  He almost thought to wait for Rick but decided he wanted to get right to business when he came home.  
  
Maybe afterward they could go to that Italian restaurant the kid liked so much.  
  
That was romantic.  
  
Not that he did romance.  
  
But he knew Rick would appreciate it.  
  
Turning off the shower, Daryl inhaled the smell of the Irish Spring shower gel on himself as he exited the enclosure.  He liked surrounding himself with the kid’s scent whenever he could, Rick having called him a ‘perv’ just the other day when he realized just what the older man had been doing.  Daryl dried off and dressed in a black button down shirt and a pair of comfortable, yet clean pair of Levis.  
  
Shoes, thankfully, were not required.  
  
And then he waited.  
  
And then he waited some more.  
  
After forty-five minutes of waiting, Daryl exited the loft and stood before the freight elevator, checking his phone for any missed texts or calls.  
  
His anger was slowly turning to anxiousness.  
  
It was another fifteen minutes before he could hear the freight elevator making it’s ascent up the shaft.  
  
Rick was a good half an hour late and he hadn’t thought to call or text or send smoke signals or _anything_.  
  
Daryl angrily stood in front of the elevator doors, watching as they opened and out stepped Rick, wearing his backpack and carrying a small box with string tied around it.  
  
His anxiousness had turned back to anger as he now saw that his lover was fine.  
  
“You’re late!” Daryl muttered.  
  
“Hi Daryl,” Rick drawled.  “Hi Rick.  It’s nice to see you Rick.  So glad you weren’t in an accident Rick.  I was worried ‘bout you Rick,” the younger man mimicked in deeper tones as he stepped over the threshold and into Daryl’s space.  
  
“Hello Rick,” Daryl said back, just as displeased.  “Hello Daryl,” the older man said in a lighter tone.  “I couldn’t call you or text you because my hand got mangled in a freak accident in the lab I slave away at every damn day.”  Then in a much deeper voice than his own _usual_ deep voice, Daryl said, “Gee Rick.  Your hand don’t look like it got mangled,” he said as he grabbed hold of Rick’s hand, the one not holding the box.  
  
“Why’re you changing your own voice?” Rick asked.  
  
Smart-mouthed kid.  
  
“Look, I’m sorry Daryl.  I didn’t know you would be worried,” Rick sighed.  “I didn’t want to put this down,” he said as he held up the box.  
  
“What’s in the box?” Daryl asked, genuinely curious.  
  
Rick giggled before repeating in a whiny voice, “What’s in the box?”  
  
“I don’t get it,” Daryl said, his eyes narrowing.  
  
“Brad Pitt?  The movie Seven, remember?” Rick said.  “What’s in the box?  It was his wife’s…never mind.”  
  
“So…what’s in the box?” Daryl asked again.  
  
“You’ll see,” Rick smiled as he made his way past Daryl and into the loft.  
  
The kid had a smart mouth on him, that was for sure.  
  
But he made life interesting.  
  
Daryl watched as Rick put the box on the kitchen counter before taking off his back pack and his hoodie, making it so the shirt under that lifted as well, exposing most of his chest in the process.  
  
“Happy birthday to me,” Daryl quietly snickered as he ogled his oblivious young lover.  
  
“You say something Daryl?” Rick asked as he toed off his sneakers and wriggled his bare feet in the shag rug next to the kitchen sink as a look of bliss and contentment graced his face.  
  
Daryl watched as he performed the nightly ritual, the same thing Rick did every day after he came home.  
  
It wasn’t just the fact that he loved the kid’s feet, even though he was quite fond of Rick walking around barefoot.  It meant that he was comfortable and considered the loft home and by extension, he considered Daryl ‘home.’  
  
But the main reason Daryl enjoyed watching the routine was because of how happy it made Rick.

And no, Daryl did not do romance.  
  
“So,” Rick said as he cut the strings on the box and let the sides fall.  “Ta da!!  Happy birthday Mr. Dixon,” the young man said as he smiled cunningly.  
  
“It’s a cake,” Daryl said, as he looked down at the small dessert.  But it didn’t say his name or anything.  It was just a chocolate glazed mini cake with a whipped garnish on top, sprinkled with what looked like coffee and adorned with small raspberries.  
  
“Not just any cake,” Rick said.  “’S from that bakery that also does the best lattes in town.  It’s a mocha cake.  I tried a sample a few days ago.  ’S the most delicious thing _ever_ ,” Rick swooned.  
  
Daryl looked up from the cake and directly at Rick, who stood there, clad in a worn gray t-shirt, a pair of black jeans that fit just right and his disheveled hair.  
  
Daryl seriously doubted there was _anything_ more delicious than the kid himself.  
  
He then looked back at the cake.  
  
No one had ever gotten him a birthday cake.  
  
It was rather nice.  
  
“We should eat dinner before we eat the cake,” Daryl said as he looked back up at Rick.  
  
Although, he really wanted to open his other present, namely Rick.  
  
“Yeah,” Rick nodded.  “But I wanted to give you your birthday present now.”  
  
“This weren’t it?” Daryl asked as he pointed at the cake.  
  
“No Daryl!  ’S a cake!  I actually got you something,” Rick smiled as he pulled out a small box from the depths of his backpack.  
  
Whenever Rick procured something from his backpack, images of Mary Poppins and her magical suitcase floated through Daryl’s head.  
  
Rick carried absolutely everything in there.  
  
Daryl looked at the gift Rick pulled out and handed to him.  The package was wrapped in camouflage wrapping paper and a drab green bow, the outlandishness of it making Daryl look up at Rick in question.  
  
“It’s ‘cause you like to hunt,” Rick shrugged.  
  
Great.   
  
The kid probably got him something for hunting.   
  
Probably a duck call or some shit like that.  
  
Daryl yanked on the ribbon and tore open the wrapping.  
  
He couldn’t really remember having gotten a birthday present ever either.  
  
Even if it was a duck call or new arrow tips for the bolts on his crossbow, it was the thought that counted.  
  
Only when Daryl opened the box, nothing hunting-related had lain within.  
  
In fact…  
  
“This a hint Rick?” Daryl grumbled as he held up the item.  “You wanna get a dog?”  
  
Daryl looked at the collar as he held it up.   
  
The leather was thick and it was adorned with a small buckle.  All in all, as far as dog collars went, it was a pretty nice one.  Feeling the inside of the collar, it felt like it would be very comfortable on any dog’s neck.  
  
“I…I didn’t get it for a dog,” Rick stuttered.  “I got it,” he said as he swallowed, “for _me_.”  
  
Daryl looked quickly up at Rick, then back down at the collar, then back at Rick, and then back down at the collar.  
  
He couldn’t mean…  
  
“You mean,” Daryl whispered, “ _you’re_ gonna wear it?”  
  
“Yeah Daryl, me.  I’m gonna wear it,” Rick said as he took the collar out of Daryl’s hands, his _trembling_ hands, and affixed the thing around his neck before he clasped it closed.  
  
Daryl took in the sight of his young lover as he stood there with the pretty collar (and now that he knew it wasn’t meant for some dog, it was by far the prettiest and most delicate thing he had _ever_ seen) snug around his neck.  
  
“I didn’t know what to get you, so I decided to give you…well, me,” Rick said as he got down on his knees and rubbed his cheek against Daryl’s jean-clad groin.  Rick then looked up.  “When I wear this, you can do whatever you want with me…or to me.”  
  
Daryl put his hand, still trembling, on top of Rick’s head, then grabbed his hair tightly and pulled his head back to look him straight in the eyes.  “You mean that Rick?  You mean it?”  
  
Oh God, Daryl wasn’t sure what he would do if it was all a joke and the kid was just fucking with him.  
  
Daryl wasn’t exactly thinking with his mind right then.  
  
He was thinking with another part of his body.  
  
“Yeah I do.  I trust you Daryl,” Rick said as he looked back up at the older man in all his blue-eyed innocent glory.  
  
No one had ever given him a cake or a present and no one had _ever_ given him something like _this_.  
  
Daryl looked back down once more at what was up for offer.  
  
Daryl had done almost whatever he wanted with the young man, but he always used restraint, limiting himself, so as not to scare Rick away.  
  
But now all caution could be thrown to the wind.  
  
The sky was the limit.  
  
Rick had given him complete carte blanche.  
  
Daryl would enjoy his birthday gift, of that there was no doubt.  
  
After all, after tonight and all the lovely things he wanted to do, he wasn’t sure he would make it to his forty-first.  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> So the second part will be sometime either this week or early next week.
> 
> (Hint: I write faster when I get lots of feedback)
> 
> I love comments and feedback like Rick loved that cake (and Daryl loves Rick).
> 
> Also, I now have a tumblr account. [dementedqueen.tumblr.com](http://dementedqueen.tumblr.com)


End file.
